Daryl's Inferno
by salmonellafitzgerald
Summary: Beth guides Daryl through the pits of hell where he finds friends, family and acquaintances. AU. There will be several points of view, but Daryl and Beth will be viewing and commenting on them. It will be funny and probably a little more than offensive and maybe just a bit sad at times.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: I don't know if I'm going to go anywhere with this story; therefore, if I do update this, it will be sporadic. If you like it, please let me know. If you think it's shit, please let me know. _

The wind howled and ravaged the trees surrounding a narrow dirt road. The cracks and pops of bending branches were concealed by the groan of an engine. The black beast sped around the curves, followed by a spray of red dirt. Birds and animals scattered away as tiny rocks flew wildly in all directions. As the car neared the crossroads, it slowed before coming to an abrupt stop in the middle of the road. The passenger lifted their door and stepped out, revealing well toned legs and ass clad scandalously in tiny black leather shorts. The long legs terminated in a pair of black peep-toe pumps, her nails were painted a screaming red to compliment the thin cloth bodice that just barely covered her pales breasts. She adjusted her golden hair and placed her hand on the door, before pushing it closed, she bent down and gave the driver a sultry wink. As she turned around, the car revved its engine and disappeared.

Stepping over dirt and rocks, she walked silently to the side of the road. Putting her finger to her lips, she waited a moment before waving her hands over the grass. Where before there was an empty space, now sat a tavern. She could hear the raucous laughter lifting through the old wooden door and out into the night. She smiled and walked inside. Immediately, a hush fell over the crowd. Beth smiled deviously before making her way over to her spot at the bar. She sat down on the barstool and draped one leg over the other. She wouldn't have to/ wait long. They always came, right on time. Signaling to the bartender, a drink appeared in front of her and she sipped it speculatively.

Beth had just popped a cherry into her mouth when a gentleman wandered inside. She batted her lashes in his direction. As if drawn by some force of magic or will, he ambled in her direction. This one was handsome, rugged and battered. She pushed a barstool towards him and gestured for him to sit down. He nodded in acknowledgment and took a seat. She looked him over as he chewed on the side of his thumb. His shoulders were slumped in a way that made him look small, but she could tell that was not the case. This one was special, the boss man had requested her personally. He caught her staring from the corner of his eye and turned towards her, cheeks stained red from the attention. He lifted his eyes to hers briefly before glancing back to the dirty bar top. She smiled, red lips parting slightly.

"Let's get started shall we? My name is Beth" He looked at her in surprise but remained silent. "Great, well Mr. Dixon, we'll be taking a pilgrimage this evening. The journey will be a tough one and as I'm sure you just figured out, I'll be your guide. You know where you are, right?"

Daryl shook his head in the negative. He was lost and could not remember how he had gotten here or what he was doing before he arrived. Chills pricked his skin as the gravity of the situation finally settled over him. When he had seen her, the entire place seemed to be anchored around her, like the pulse of the place was tethered to her heartbeat. It echoed loudly in his mind, putting him further on edge. He shook his head more firmly in response to her question, hoping that maybe she had some answers.

"Mr. Dixon, you're in hell...Actually, to be more accurate, you're in purgatory. But you'll get to see the rest of it shortly." She smiled kindly at him and stood up, offering him her hand. His eyes grew wide and he roughly grasped it, holding on like she was his only link to earth. She gently tugged him and they walked towards the crowd. He paused for a moment, caught up in the music surrounding them. The performer's hands danced up and down a guitar neck, as he banged his foot against the hardwood stage in time with the music. The sound produced was both mournful and familiar. Daryl allowed it to flow through him, permeate his very existence, before finally continuing his path towards the denizens of the tavern. As they approached, everyone parted to let them pass.

Their faces were blurry, features indistinguishable. It was like a painting he had seen once. The painted figures had been dancing gleefully, the motion blurring the faces and bodies together, forming a picture similar to the one in which he was now entangled. When he had entered the tavern, he had been struck by the oddity of everything around him, but he could not actually pinpoint what was off about the place. Looking around, he couldn't understand how he had not noticed it immediately. He now vividly remembered reading the engraved sign above the door.

"Abandon all hope, you who enter here."

His heart started beating rapidly and he clutched his free hand to his chest. If he wasn't already dead, he would be well on his way to a heart attack. His guide just waited patiently as he calmed. She did not try to soothe him or compel him to move forward. Honestly, what could one say to comfort a person who was about to cross through the gates of hell, especially if they were as guilty as he was. His breathing finally slowed and he no longer felt paralyzed. Resigned to his fate, he allowed Beth to pull him forward. Patron after patron darted out of her path, some hissing and others cowering in fear. When she reached the wall near a disused pool table, she put her finger to her lips as if in contemplation. She removed it a few moments later and rotated her arm in a circular motion. To his surprise, a large red door appeared, its brass handle the shape of a serpent wrapped possessively around an apple. He laughed just a little and she smiled in response.

"I know, it's a little on point, but you don't understand how hard it is to get a contractor down here that is worth a damn. Crooks and thieves, every last one of them, but not a single one that can so much as hold a hammer the right way."

He couldn't tell if she was joking, but opted not to ask. He watched as she lifted her hand to the door and briefly knocked. When she received a knock in return, she nodded in his direction. Squeezing his hand a little tighter, she grasped the handle and pulled open the door.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note: So I started counting the ways in which people could find this story offensive. There were a few, I had to stop counting. I'm definitely not trying to offend anyone. So...If it happens, I'm very sorry.**_

Abandon all hope was fucking accurate. Daryl looked around, he was now abandoning hope that he would leave this place without tetanus and he was willing to put down money that there was more than a few disease carrying rats around. Of course there were he chuckled to himself, rats were the real hounds of hell. Disgusting little bastards. He looked around, eying the bent pieces of metal suspiciously and listening for the telltale scrambling of little feet. If he had been suspecting fire and brimstone, he had been sadly disappointed. Currently, they were standing in what looked like an old prison. He could hear water dripping around him. In spite of being extremely irritating, he was unimpressed with what hell had to offer. As if sensing his doubt, Beth released his hand and looked into his eyes. He looked away, almost feeling guilty for his underwhelmed response to the underworld.

"This ain't it you know." Daryl ran his hand across the back of his neck and followed her forward. His inner Merle butted in:

_When we gettin' to the good shit. _He hushed Merle in his mind, but true to fashion, he wasn't having it. _Goddamn Darylina, just askin'. That guide sure is a hot little number. Ask 'er why she's dressed like a slut. _

"Why do you dress like that?" Fuck, damn it Merle. It was not easy carrying his brother around like a spirit animal. He could hear his brother's raspy chuckle in his mind and he cringed waiting for the inevitable fallout that would be caused by his outburst. She just looked him over, tight lipped. Before he could apologize, she held her hand up to silence him.

"You think I wanna dress like this? It works for some girls, but it just isn't for me personally." Daryl shrugged and she continued. "The boss man is a real lecherous bastard."

"Hugh?" Beth smiled at him kindly

"Horny. He's horny. Promised me a reduced sentence If i'd walk around dressed like this. Shoes that pinch beat the shit out of being buried up to my neck in mud and stepped on." She paused for a second before finishing. Playing with a strand of hair, she thought over her next statement. "I mean, he's kind of a prick. Sometimes my shoes are too small and other times he just glues 'em to my feet." She shrugged her shoulders and started to walk again.

_Maybe she'll blow you. _Keep your trap shut Merle. He followed behind her, hesitant to speak, fearing that Merle would once again hijack his mouth. After several minutes of no variation in scenery, he cleared his throat to indicate that he was going to ask a question.

"So, I know you said that there's more, but does it all look like this?" Daryl stared at the back of Beth's head. He knew that she could sense it, but she didn't say anything about his probing looks. She made a low humming sound before answering his question.

"Nah, this is the second level of hell, where they keep the gluttons. This part is kinda gross and it isn't important to your spiritual journey, so we're just going to skip it. We'll be swinging back through the first level soon. Not sure who designed the place, but they did a bad job. We'll you'll see. Anyway, you got some friends we gotta visit in the next level."

Daryl felt his stomach clench. He had known lots of bad people, actually the vast majority of them were probably down here now.

He hastened to close the gap between him and Beth. His steps echoed loudly in the abandoned corridor. The periodic dripping was starting to severely wrack his nerves. Maybe the devil did have his shit together after all. They turned the corner and Daryl could see rows of metal doors as far as the eye could see. Each one had a tiny rectangular peephole. Curious, Daryl stepped towards one. As he neared, he could hear odd noises emanating from inside. He had almost made it when he felt Beth tug on his arm.

"Really Daryl, you don't want to see any of that. It'll really fuck you up." She took her hand off of his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles.

"How bad could a bunch of fat people be." Beth shook her head and let out a sad sigh.

"Just because somebody is fat, doesn't make 'em a glutton. Gluttons consume, not just food, but things. They do it past extravagance to the point of waste, often withholding from the people who actually need it. So in reality, if you looked in there, you'd be more likely so see a monarch or a CEO." She waved her arms animatedly. Daryl watched her in admiration. He didn't know how he had managed it, but it was likely that he found the prettiest woman in all of hell.

_That's what I been sayin' baby brother, bet she'd wrap those pretty little li..._Shut it Merle, seriously. Beth looked at Daryl strangely. It hadn't occurred to him that she might be able to hear what was going on inside his mind. He blushed at the thought. When she didn't make indication that she'd heard the exchange, he gestured for her to continue. She turned tail and walked down the hall. Maybe he was imagining it, but he thought that she might have put an extra bit of sway in her hips. He shook his head in self admonishment.

When they finally hit the end of the hall, Beth place her finger to her lips. Mimicking her previous action, she took her finger away from her lips and traced a circle on the wall. Suddenly, another door appeared. This one was a lot less interesting. It was an old wooden door with peeling paint. It had an old fashion brass knocker that she used to signal her desire to continue forward. When she received a response from the other side, she clicked open the door's handle mechanism and swung it open.

This place was a lot more eery. The door opened to a meadow, one that he would have found beautiful, had in not been buried deep in the bowels of hell. He watched as Beth struggled over a muddy patch of ground. He felt a laugh bubble up when he saw her six inch heel sink three-quarters of the way into the ground. She let loose a string of expletives that would have embarrassed a good church going man. Luckily, he wasn't one of those.

"Got a mouth on ya." Beth cut her eyes in his direction and he shrugged under her gaze. After another few minutes of struggling, she looked back at him pointedly.

"You gonna help me?" Daryl slowly walked towards her and she tracked his movements. He stepped lightly over the mud and placed his arm behind her legs, swiftly lifting her up and cradling her to his chest. He walked back across the mud and deposited her on the other side.

"Ain't it cheatin' for me to help you get around?" He smiled deviously at her.

"Yeah, it is. Tomorrow these'll be stapled to my feet, but we got places to go." Daryl's eyes widened. He cleared his throat and fell in behind her when she began walking towards a gurgling river. It didn't take much time for them to arrive. Before Beth could move closer to the river, a dog ambled in their direction. It had matted white fur, or at least Daryl thought it did. It was hard to tell through the briars and mud that covered it. When the dog got closer, he could see that it was missing an eye. He bent down and extended his hand, trying to touch it. He had almost coaxed it to him when Beth swatted his hand down.

"Don't touch him. He's the judge of the damned. You aren't ready for him to pass judgement yet."

"Wha' the hell, how do you know what he's sayin'? Does he piss on ya or hump yer leg..." Beth rolled her eyes and shoed the dog away. It let out a small snarl and ran away with its tail tucked between its legs. She continued her path to the river, Daryl close behind. When she arrived, she dropped down to her knees on the bank, eyes cast down to the water. Daryl sat down next to her and followed her gaze. To his horror, there were faces in the river. From a distance, it had looked clear and clean. Upon closer inspection, the river was rancid and filthy. Small pockets of methane floated to the top and exploded with a small pop. Several appeared at once, causing Daryl's anxiety level to spike. He raked his eyes over the water, looking for what Beth was seeing. Finally, he found it. Stuck in the mud was the face of his old school counselor. Lori Grimes. Next to her was a man that looked a lot like Mr. Walsh, the football coach.

He looked over at Beth. She remained silent for a moment before placing her finger to her lips. She placed her hand over the water and Lori began to rise to the surface. If he was being honest, he was scared shitless. Even Merle was keeping his mouth shut. Once her lifeless face broke the surface, her eyes opened and she looked directly at Daryl. Her mouth began to move, opening and closing like a beached fish, but he couldn't hear what she was saying. He felt Beth lace her fingers through his and they were instantly transported into what he assumed had been Lori's bedroom.

He turned his head, embarrassed, when he heard her moans of ecstasy. Her tiny sounds were being punctuated by a much louder, more masculine grunt. He turned his head back to see coach Walsh seated deep inside of her. She was on her knees, begging him to go deeper, go faster. Daryl could hear the slap of his sack against Lori's toned legs. Beth looked enthralled, but allowed Daryl to lead her from the bedroom to the hallway. He scanned the family photos hanging there. In them, he saw two smiling children, arms linked and wearing their sunday best. He looked in the photo next to it and noticed a man. Not the one that was currently plowing Lori into the mattress. Okay, she was an adulteress. That didn't seem so bad to him. _Hell no t'ain't. Fine piece like that needs a little extra lovin'. _Stop it Merle, this is her confession and she don't need it sullied. He rolled his eyes. He was about to see the exact moment that Lori was damned to hell and he couldn't get sprit Merle out of his head. He heard the creaking of the front door and expected her husband to walk inside. Instead, a sexy blond woman walked past them and into the bedroom. She turned her head for a moment, revealing her identity as Andrea, the school nurse.

Daryl looked at Beth and she shrugged, dragging him by the hand back towards the ruckus. He cast his eyes to the floor, seeing several articles of clothing intermingling. The blond was now very naked. Her hands clutched a Lori's thighs, opening them slowly. As she bent her body forward, Daryl could see her pussy. She hummed against Lori's thigh, eliciting a small moan. His pants started to tighten as he watched her swipe her tongue over Lori, working her around Coach Walsh's thick fingers, causing her to cry out. He felt Beth squeeze his hand and they walked outside again.

Beth looked at him accusingly and he felt a bit guilty about his reaction.

"Okay, so she likes to fuck, is that really what sent her to hell?" Daryl waited for her response. She shrugged her shoulders and let Daryl's hand drop. They were instantly pulled out of Lori's recollections and Daryl was left facing his guide by the rotting river. He looked down and could see that Lori was continuing her soundless diatribe. He turned a questioning eye on Beth.

"I think we can skip all the gross sex stuff and go directly to what landed her in hell." Daryl nodded his head in agreement. Spirit Merle was going to be pretty disappointed, but he felt that he could bear the deprivation with alacrity. They waited, suspended in time, as Lori continued her tale. Beth linked hands with him again and they were transported into Lori's kitchen. He could see that she was cooking dinner. Her hair was a little wet, tiny droplets fell to the floor as she danced around the kitchen barefoot. Daryl took a step forward and glanced at the meal she was preparing. She ladled out a bowl and placed it to the side. As he placed his nose to the pot, intending to smell the contents, she poured something inside.

He couldn't place the smell, but he knew what it was. She was about to poison her husband. Daryl heard a man's voice and turned around to see Rick Grimes. The name implanted in his mind by his connection to Beth. Lori gestured for him to take a seat at the table, before obliging her, he walked forward and gave her a small kiss. Daryl watched as Lori quickly put something behind her back. He wanted to scream out and warn Rick, but knew that he would be unable. What was done was done and there was nothing he could do about it.

Rick took his seat and Lori brought him a bowl. She set her's on the table in front of her spot and turned back to the kitchen to get some wine. Daryl watched as Rick traded his steaming bowl of soup for her cold one. A smile graced his features. Rick had just saved his own life. Rick took a few bites before calling out to his wife.

"This is great Lori. You really outdid yerself. What's the occasion?" Lori laughed and poked her head into the dining room.

"The kids are out, so I thought we could do something romantic." She smiled at her husband and received one in return. She padded back to the table holding a couple of wine glasses. She placed one in front of her husband and lifted her's in the air.

"To us." Rick seconded the toast and they drank deeply. Daryl and Beth stepped closer to the table and watched as Lori took her first bite. So far so good. She took another and another, laughing and joking with her husband. Daryl saw everything in slow motion. Lori stopped. Her eyes got big for a moment before she fell to the floor. Her body began to seize and thick white foam oozed from her mouth. Rick shook her in panic, begging her to be alright. He ran to the table near the front door where he had dropped his cell. Daryl could hear him dialing 9-1-1 and listened as the shaking man yelled for them to send and ambulance.

Lori had stopped foaming at the mouth by the time that the medics arrived. Rick followed the stretcher through the door and into the back of the ambulance. Daryl could hear his pained sobs and grimaced. He thought that they would be returning soon, until Beth squeezed his hand roughly. He looked at her and she shook her head no. They waited for what seemed like forever. He heard the door creak and two kids walked in, nanny in tow. Daryl watched in horror as the boy dropped his bag and ran into the kitchen. Apparently they were planning on eating before they went to the hospital. The nanny got out three bowls and filled them to the brim with Lori's poisoned meal.

He couldn't watch the rest, he already knew what was going to happen. Feeling pity, Beth released his hand and they were transported back to the river. Daryl looked down at Lori, her lips had stopped moving and her eyes had closed once more. Beth gestured over her. As if some supernatural string had been cut, Lori sank back into the depths, settling next to the man who had been fucking her.

"Her husband caught up with him. Found out that he got her the poison." Daryl turned his head, trying to wipe a tear away without being noticed. Merle was blessedly silent for the moment. Apparently his brother was equally offended. He remembered that day vividly, memories flooding his mind relentlessly. School had been let out because Lori and her kids had died, cause unknown. That day was the first time he snorted a pile of ground up pills, pilfered from the neighbors medicine cabinet.

"Is that what this place is for, cheaters, killers?"

Beth shook her head. "No, it's a place for the lustful." Beth had put up finger quotes on the word, "lustful." "Lori's lust was destructive, it drove her to murder." Daryl nodded his head in understanding. When Beth was satisfied that he was ready to continue, she raised up on shaky legs and walked a ways down the river.

Daryl's eyes caught sight of an aging woman, skin wrinkled grotesquely. She opened her mouth to shout in greeting and he could see that she was missing several teeth. Daryl ducked his head and cringed. Beth lifted her hand in greeting and waited patiently as the elderly woman guided her raft to their side of the river. To Daryl's surprise, when the woman reached their side of the bank, she had transformed. She no longer had the visage of a decrepit old lady.

"Carol?" Daryl looked at the woman with shock and Carol nodded back smiling.

"Oh stop that." Beth reached out and pinched Carol's upper arm causing her to cuss briefly. Her body began to shudder and twist, skin warping and pulling. The lines on Carol's face deepened and Daryl watched in horror as several of her teeth fell out. When her shaking finally subsided, she had transformed back into an old lady. She looked at Beth spitefully and held out her bony, twisted fingers.

Beth dug around in her pockets while addressing Daryl, "That's the ferryman, she likes to take the form of people you care about. She gets more money that way. As far as I know, Carol is still alive and kicking." Finally, Beth managed to retrieve a gold coin. The woman extended her hand and grabbed it roughly, placing the coin between her remaining teeth and biting down. She smiled and gestured for them to board the vessel. Daryl was leery at first, but Beth pushed him roughly. When they were both seated, the old woman began the slow journey to the other side. The river had seemed narrow to him, but now he could see that it was only an illusion. They were now paddling across a vast expanse of rough water. The boat tilted and rocked, causing him to moan as his stomach turned violent flips.

Beth weathered the trip like a champ until they reached the middle. In an instant, everything went tits up. The raft began to rock violently and Daryl grabbed for Beth's hand. Without warning, they were pitched over the side. Their bodies were being dragged deeper and deeper by the withering souls of the damned. The water burned his skin and he could feel sores starting to form on his face and arms. If they didn't escape soon, they were going to be just as trapped as Lori. When Daryl felt his boots hit bottom, he groped around for Beth. He grabbed a hand, praying it was hers, and pushed off.

As his body moved through the river, he felt the tight compression he quickly came to associate with suctioning. His ears popped painfully and his head throbbed with a rapid change in pressure. However, throughout the entire ordeal, he refused to open his eyes, afraid that the acidic water would burn them out. When they surfaced, they had somehow reached the other side of the river. He drug a semiconscious Beth to the shore. Her body was now littered with boils and he could only imagine what he looked like. He put his hand to her chest, the fabric of her bodice was now entirely see-through. He pushed down on her chest rhythmically until she sputtered and opened her eyes. Blinking a few times, she sat up and covered her chest loosely with her arms.

"That is my least favorite door." she looked down at her ruined clothes and back at Daryl. "Well shit, these shorts chaff something fierce when wet." Daryl laughed and helped her to her feet.

_Bet she gets 'em we..._

"Shut up Merle!" Beth and Daryl shouted simultaneously. Daryl's mouth dropped open and Beth embarrassedly slapped a hand over her own open mouth. Daryl reddened substantially, ashamed of the fact that she could indeed hear his inner monologue. Of course it had to be Merle, couldn't have been Gandhi bouncing around in his head. Spirit Merle shrugged his shoulders and receded back into the depths of Daryl's mind. Beth's statement clicked in his mind and he felt his face flush in anger.

"Wait a damn minute, you knew we'd be goin' over the side of that raft?" Beth blushed a little and took a few strands of frayed hair between her fingers.

"Yeah. But if I had said something, it would have been a hell of a lot harder to get you to go." Daryl shook his head and gestured for Beth to lead the way, a cumbersome tension had settled between them. Beth obliged him and began to leave. As they walked away, the scenery changed drastically. Where there was once a lush meadow, now the two of them were passing silently through a desert. It was littered with burned bodies, all moaning and begging for a drink of water. Occasionally, one of them would grasp at his boots or he would trip over somebody accidentally. He could feel the sun burning his face and soon he was exhausted. Beth didn't look much better. The sores on her face had disappeared, replaced by a tomato red burn and chapped lips. He could feel his own start to break open and he tongued the coppery slivers of blood that oozed slowly from his enflamed skin.

"Where are we now?" He coughed out the words, afraid of losing any more moisture.

"Third level. The prodigal." Daryl blinked at her and she shook her head lightly. "Wasteful, extravagant, they are selfish, self-serving and at times very vain. Here in the desert, they are denied their earthly pleasures."

"They sound like gluttons." Beth nodded her head at Daryl's observations.

"Gluttons consume to the detriment of others, prodigals usually consume to the detriment of themselves, although they do use others for selfish gain." Beth pointed at a rock and her and Daryl made their way to it.

Seeing nothing, he looked at Beth in confusion. She dropped down on the hot sand and began to dig. The hot sand blistered her hands and he dropped down to help her. By the time they had dug a sizable hole, Daryl felt as if he had lost half his body weight in water. Beth continued to dig until her hands bled. Once the crimson droplet hit the sand, she paused, and angled her body into the hole. As her body began to disappear, Daryl grabbed hold of her hips and felt himself being pulled in behind her. The rough sand scraped at his sides as they were pulled deeper and deeper. He began to cough and sputter as the sand fell in around him, causing his body to be compressed. The sand invaded his nostrils, clogging them and making him choke. He was beginning to fear that he would suffocate when he fell head first to a dirty sawdust floor. A small stream of sand fell on his head from above and he looked at it accusingly, causing Beth to chuckle.

_**Author's note again: So I interpreted these sins pretty loosely. They weren't discussed in my household so I had to go by definitions and my own bumbling interpretation. Oh and I used Dante's Inferno to frame this story, more or less.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's note: I had my husband read this chapter and he hated it. He didn't think that I should post it, but I tried to rewrite it and it didn't work out. I'm really nervous that he was right. **_

_**I've got to warn you guys, there is a hate crime in this chapter and somebody gets beaten to death. Please approach with caution if that is something that will bother you. Also, there is drug use. A horribly inaccurate depiction of drug use...and masturbation. **_

"Where the hell are we?" He looked around at the dirty mustard color walls. "Or when?" Beth chuckled and gestured around her.

"This is hell circa 1976." He glanced at her questioningly before he heard a familiar voice. At first, he thought that spirit Merle had returned. He was on the brink of telling him to shut his mouth when he looked around and spotted him. His blood suddenly ran cold. Merle was dead and in hell. He looked to Beth for confirmation and she nodded solemnly.

"Where, when?"

"In Reno. He overdosed. It took two weeks for someone to find him, but now he is sitting in the morgue, unidentified. He didn't have a wallet on him, but you'll get a chance to see a little bit more of the story later." She waited for the news to sink in as they listened to his brother hitting on someone at the bar.

"Why is he in here?" Beth laughed a little and put her hand to her mouth apologetically. When she removed it, she uncovered the most beautifully blinding smile that Daryl had ever seen.

"Nobody could stand to listen to him so we had to build a special place just for him. Hell is hard enough without having to listen to Merle Dixon for an eternity." Her exclamation caused Daryl to chuckle. "Actually, this was the first bar he ever went to. He was 16. But I guess you're really asking what his sin was. He's a prodigal too, just like the men in the desert."

"My dad, is he?" Daryl looked at her with guarded features, fearful of her answer.

"No Daryl, he isn't here." He looked at her with confusion and then anger. She spoke before he could unleash the rage boiling just beneath the surface. "He repented on his deathbed and I guess he meant it or he'd be here with all the rest. I didn't write the rules, he just fell into a loophole. If it were up to me, he'd be handing upside down bleeding and shitting on himself for all of eternity."

When tears began to stream down Daryl's face, she wrapped her arms around him, tucking her head underneath his chin. She could feel his body shaking and she squeezed a little tighter. Finally, she felt him place his hand on her elbow. She sighed and moved away, looking into his beautiful blue eyes. She ran her hand gently down his arm and removed it quickly, gesturing for him to walk closer to his brother.

Once again, they were surrounded by faceless wraiths. He reached his hand out to one. The wraith moved closer, sniffing his outstretched digits. Daryl cried out as it nipped his middle finger, drawing a small amount of blood. He jerked his hand roughly and the wraith hissed at him before fleeing the dance floor. Beth shook her head in disapproval and he glanced at her apologetically, cradling his fingers in his uninjured hand as he followed close behind her.

The woman Merle was hitting on was tall and muscular. Her eyes done up in black, bringing out the startling green of her irises. Her lips were a screaming red and Daryl watched her place tiny kisses on Merle's cheek, leaving smudges of red after each kiss. She loosely drug her long nails up and down his brother's arms and he could see the chills that rose in their wake. He looked closer at her features and build. The woman's hands were as large as Merle's. With the added height of her high heeled shoes, she was slightly taller than Merle. Daryl furrowed his brow and looked at Beth. She was smiling and stood with her arms crossed over her chest. Daryl looked back at his brother and watched the woman take his hand in hers and lead him to the bathroom. Beth compelled Daryl to follow and he shook his head violently. He did not want to see what was about to happen.

Beth pushed him lightly and he drug his feet all the way to the dingy bathroom. Swinging the door open, he walked inside. Daryl saw the woman place her hands on his brother's shoulders and push him to his knees. His brother responded by kissing her toned thighs. When he reached the hem of her black dress, his hands disappeared underneath. As they reappeared, Daryl could see a flash of red lace trailing down the woman's legs. He turned his head for a moment, catching Beth's eye, he looked back at the disaster in front of him. His brother caught the edge of the woman's skirt and rolled it underneath his hands. He pushed it the last few inches, revealing the woman's rather large and very firm penis. Daryl looked at Merle to gauge his reaction. His brother was looking up, dumfounded and shaking. The woman bent over and pulled her red panties back over her ankles and legs. Once they were situated, she rolled her dress back down. She bent once more to kiss Merle on the head lightly. Turning to wave at Beth, she walked back outside into the bar.

"She...He could see us." Beth laughed at Daryl's fumbling use of gender pronouns.

"Yes, she could see us."

"Is she being punished too?" Beth shrugged.

"I guess that's debatable, but no. Not in the traditional sense. Opal is as close as you can get to a saint nowadays. She is part of what I like to refer to as our hell community outreach program. Comes down every few weeks to play cat and mouse with Merle."

"How does that work?"

"They have a history, but he doesn't recognize her so that really isn't the nature of his punishment. He is genuinely attracted to her, but can't embrace anything different than himself. It drives him crazy knowing that he gets so hard for a man. He wants to take it further, but that part of him, the hateful part wont let him. All of that, the hate, that he has for himself for finding her attractive and for her for being what he thinks of as different, he is forced to stew in it for eternity." She paused for a moment to let it all set in. "It was my idea." She smiled and turned to leave the bathroom.

Daryl glanced at his brother one more time as Merle pulled himself from his pants and began to slowly pump, sobbing the entire time. Daryl turned his head quickly in embarrassment and hastened to follow Beth back outside.

"Okay, so now what?"

"We'll wait 'til he finishes and then you can get the rest of his story and when we're done, we'll move on." Beth walked towards Opal, waving her hand. Daryl settled in beside Beth as the two women struck up a conversation. In spite of ingrained bias, Daryl found that he like Opal quite a bit.

"Why don't you tell Daryl a little more about yourself." Beth sipped from a drink that she had pilfered from the bar. Opal smiled and fanned herself with her hand.

"My goodness, where to start." She chuckled lightly and Daryl leaned forward so that he could hear her better. "I named myself after my grandmama. She fought for women's rights in the south. Actually, she fought for the rights of white women, she was rather racist. I'm sure she flipped in her grave when my mamma married a gentleman of color." Daryl laughed with her. "They married in D.C., but lived in Alabama. It was a small town where anti-miscegenation laws were strictly enforced. They had trouble with the law most of their marriage." She chuckled again and looked at Daryl. "She died young, as the women in my family are prone to do. Though, I like to imagine that she would have been liberal minded about how I express my gender. But honestly, I'm sure she did a few somersaults as well. My father turned me out, unwilling to raise a son that was, different, 'funny' he called it. I was brought up by an elderly lady who raised me up in the church. It wasn't easy, becoming Opal. Allowing the world to see me as myself. A fair number of the congregation is down here, that's why I volunteered. That and the history that Merle and I share. As terrible as they could be, I still loved them. It feels right to gaze upon them from time to time.

"How'd ya die?"

Beth gulped too much from the glass and sputtered violently. Opal placed a hand to her back and delicately stroked until the gagging subsided. She smiled at Beth and looked at Daryl.

"That's not really the kind of thing you ask down here. People either tell you their stories or you simply never know. But since you're new, I don't mind sharin', though, it isn't a very nice story." Daryl nodded at her gravely. "Let me show you sweetheart." Opal reached her hand towards Daryl. He looked at her and then at Beth, confused.

"Opal is choosing to share her story. She'll be your guide, you don't need me." Beth clarified and Daryl reached his hand out to Opal, wrapping his fingers around hers tightly.

He felt a tugging sensation as his ears popped. Reflexively, he closed his eyes tight. When he opened them, they stood by a church. Its white steeple reached skyward and he could hear the laughter of children in a faraway field. A small breeze danced in the trees, causing them to move and sway. For a moment he was hypnotized. A gruff voice broke his trance. He could hear the thud of a boot, followed by a pained grunt. Turning his head, he looked on at the scene in front of him. Three men circled around a woman. Her sundress was skewed and he could tell that she was bleeding. The men took turns kicking her in the stomach and chest. One of the men he realized was only a boy, maybe in his teens. Opal squeezed his hand and their faces suddenly became clear.

His brother was the teen. The men were forcing his brother to participate. Anytime he would fake a blow, they would cuff him hard over the head. In his mind, he could feel their intentions. They were "teaching" him to be a real man. Merle begged for them to stop, but that only caused them to turn the beatings on him. Daryl looked closer at the woman on the ground. It was his guide, her face contorted in pain. In order to stop his beatings, Merle stood up on shaking legs, walking back to Opal's prone form. He kicked his leg out hard, catching her in the head and knocking her unconscious. Bored, the men dragged a whimpering Merle away. Daryl watched as they rounded the side of the church and disappeared, laughing and making jokes the entire time.

Opal lead them over to her body, limp on the ground. Her hand ghosted over her beaten face, swollen and quickly becoming unrecognizable. They stood there, immobile for several minutes. However, Daryl could tell that time didn't work the same in hell as it did on earth. During those several minutes, he watched the sun set and the stars rise. Once the inky blackness descended, he could see Opal begin to shiver violently. Unable to move, her body was exposed to the elements. He watched, suspended in eternal agony as Opal began to fade, muttering the occasional prayer. Finally, the sun rose again. The light of the morning sun caught the stained glass window of the church, casting rays of different colored light inside the chapel. Through them, he could see the visage of a plaster molded Jesus, arms spread out wide as he dangled from the cross. Daryl turned to Opal, following her line of sight into the church. She too was looking upon the statue's face. She uttered one last prayer and finally let go. Once it was done, She released Daryl's hand and they returned back to the bar. Opal went to lift a hand to her face, but Daryl lightly touched her wrist. He brought his rough hands to the apple of her cheek and captured the single tear that had fallen before placing his hand in the pocket of his jeans.

He remembered that day. That was the day that had changed Merle. Until that moment, he had never known why. He had just assumed that something inside of Merle had been rotten, but now he understood. He could see it. The decisions that others had made had helped Merle onto the path that he would travel into oblivion. Their lessons on manhood hard learned. A few weeks later, he landed in juvie for the first time and Daryl had been left alone with their father. Daryl raised his eyes to Opal and she smiled gently.

"Oh my, you Dixon boys. I do love you both." Opal patted his face and turned to leave, waving goodbye. Beth looked at Daryl and she felt a pain in her heart. It was a sensation that she had not felt in a long time. She didn't have long to contemplate the feeling before Merle stumbled belligerently from the bathroom. His swagger was more exaggerated as he walked back to his previous seat and ordered a whisky. Beth sighed and walked to his chair. She lightly placed a hand on his shoulder and gestured for Daryl to grab her hand.

As Beth placed her hands on him, Merle stopped mid-shot. His face became blank and pale, eyes forward. Like Lori, his mouth was opening and closing wordlessly. An eery sensation passed over him as he realized that this might be the last time he would ever see his brother. Chest heaving with grief, he took her hands and they were transported back into the shack he and Merle had been squatting in before his brother blew town. Daryl watched the familiar scene, as his brother tore apart everything he touched. As Merle was ripping into a couch cushion, Daryl gazed on as he saw himself barge in through the door. The splintering of wood echoed inside his memories and he watched as he dressed his brother down. Merle fought back at first, trading word for word. By the end, his brother, the fifty year old druggy left his life forever.

There was an interruption in Merle's stream of thought and Daryl did not know if Beth had taken pity on him, or if his brother had blacked out through it. They now stood in a shitty hotel room watching Merle shoot up with a frail redheaded woman. Her skin was pale and small purple track marks littered her arms. She picked up the needle after Merle, but he quickly turned and knocked it out of her hand. Daryl didn't catch what she said, but it caused his brother to rare back and hit her. He heard the crack of her skull against the table, finally settling on her back in the floor. Merle wrapped a dirty rag around his arm, pulling it tight, and stuck the needle in his arm again. He sat down hard by the woman, needle still protruding from his skin. When she started to choke, he didn't move a muscle. Daryl watched in horror as his brother looked on without lifting a finger to help her.

Beth squeezed his hand a little tighter when Merle stood up on shaky legs and walked heavily into the bathroom, banging into doorframe with a grunt. Sitting down on the toilet lid, he put his head in his hands and began to cry. He whispered lightly, words muffled by his calloused hands. Desperate to hear, Daryl moved closer. He kneeled down, tightly holding Beth's hand. In the process, his knees brushed the material of his brother's tattered jeans; however, whatever fabric of time or space that they were invading, did not allow him to feel the contact and he wondered briefly if Opal had been able to feel the brutalized skin of her own face when they had been present at her dying memory.

"I ain't gonna beg ya." Daryl fell backwards on his butt as Merle dared the devil to take him. He and Beth sat together, side-by-side and watched Merle Dixon go into a drug induced coma. After what seemed like hours, his brother finally passed. Only Merle could kill Merle. It took him fifty years, but he finally did it. As Daryl was eyeing his brother's lifeless body, the redhead walked inside of the bathroom. She slapped Merle's face roughly and dug deep into his pockets, coming out with a small baggie and Merle's beat up leather wallet. Daryl released Beth's hand. When he opened his eyes again, the juke joint had articulated around them. Beth had taken her hand from his brother's shoulder and Merle went back to his shot, business as usual. Daryl took a moment to regain his composure. He looked at Beth and nodded.

"We ain't gotta climb up out of here through my brother's ass or nothin', do we? Beth choked on a laugh, causing her to cough. She hadn't been expecting him to make a joke so soon after he saw his brother's death.

"No, but I'll stick a pin in that one." Beth lead him back into the bathroom and opened the bathroom stall. She placed her finger to her lips and traced a square over the toilet. Knocking roughly, the square opened, granting them entrance into the next level of hell. She could hear mumbling behind her.

"Even better, gotta climb up through satan's glory hole." Daryl watched as Beth dangled half in and half out of the opening. Placing his hand on the underside of her thigh, he gave her a push to help her through. When he was the only one left, he looked around once more before sighing and climbing up on the side of the toilet and placing his arms and head inside the opening. He felt Beth grab his hands and pull him to the other side.

_**Author's Ramblings: So Opal is an OC, but not really. Her way of speaking and comportment is so obviously inspired by Venus (couldn't possibly do her justice) from soa that it wouldn't be fair to entirely call her mine. **_

_**There seem to be a lot of bars in hell...I wonder what that says about me**_


End file.
